


Sehnsucht

by orphan_account



Category: Dark (TV 2017)
Genre: Evil Noah, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Self-Harm, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-06-21 08:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15553722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Helge doesn't want to feel it, but despite himself he's attracted.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

Sex was a dirty thing that belonged in closets and bathrooms and hidden places that muffled sounds through the wall. It's not something Helge really _wants_. He thinks.

What he wants is someone to - hold his hand and brush back his hair, like Bernd used to when Helge was small. He wants Claudia to notice him and think, 'ah, maybe he isn't so worthless after all'.

Claudia who is kind and beautiful - maybe not to him, and he's sure she has her reasons for that - and if she gave him a chance he knows he could make her love him. He wouldn't fail again. Claudia is nothing like his mother. If he could just get Claudia to acknowledge the fact that he isn't totally unlovable, maybe - maybe Helge could prove to himself he isn't.

At any rate, Helge isn't confused about his feelings about Claudia in the least.

Sex doesn't enter into it.

 

 

 

Helge meets the Father in 1953.

His mother takes him to church every Sunday. Still he remembers that first time. The tall figure, the broad black expanse of the Father's shoulders and the way the man had put a hand on his shoulder and told him that it was good to see him.

He made Helge feel like he mattered.

The first time Helge _really_ meets him though, in the capacity he permanently knows him, is after the rock. In the cellar.

He's more casual, black sleeves folded up, overcoat absent. He doesn't have his hat.

Helge doesn't like to admit he's scared when he first realizes he's in the cellar and the only way out is through the Father who is stronger than Bernd and hopelessly stronger than Helge. But the Father only smiles like they're sharing a secret and says, 'Welcome Helge' - like it's a place where Helge is wanted.

He cleans him up and bandages his face.

They share other moments and the Father tells him of things to come but that isn't where the problem begins. The beginning of it isn't even when Helge begins to 'change', when he begins feeling things he ought not feel - things that he hates himself for - and Bernd begins to regard him with the same disgust as mother.

 

 

 

The problem begins in 1986.

It's been a rough run, Helge's barely held on - but he has, because he knows it's important. Anticipation, but also fear, fill him when it begins to get near the date.

Helge's readied the room. And if he hadn't seen 1986 for himself he wouldn't believe. If Father Noah hadn't sent him back in the chair then Helge wouldn't know. All these years and Helge has waited to know what happens beyond that day. If him and Father Noah saved the world like Father Noah told him they would.

Helge pulls up to the cabin after work and Noah is waiting on the porch.

He's exactly as Helge remembers him. He has to remind himself it hasn't been that long for the Father.

And it is like a reunion of old friends meeting. Helge approaches nervously, fiddling with his keys, and when the Father smiles encouragingly at him Helge hugs him. The Father remains stiff though, and it only takes a second for Helge to pull away in embarrassment.

As a child Helge had only made the basic comparisons between them - man and child, an adult to be heeded and himself a good boy who must listen. It's jarring to compare them now. The Father is broad, compared to Helge's own rounded shoulders. The Father is solid, muscle moving beneath clothing and Helge is well aware his own body is soft and pudgy. Most importantly the Father is handsome - a tall blue eyed blonde, and Helge knows what he looks like. Tired. Scarred, with ill defined features and greying hair.

It makes Helge feel worried that the Father won't like him anymore but he shakes it off. Surely, they're going to be friends.

"Helge." The Father greets and Helge feels like a child all over again, like he's being reprimanded.

"Sorry." Helge begins, "I was just excited to see you."

The Father smiles at that but it doesn't reach his eyes.

 

 

 

The main problem Helge has is the physicality of it all.

The way the Father strips in the heat when they're working. Helge's face flushes, every time. It's hopeless to think the Father doesn't notice. He is smart and perceptive and he has plans. Helge is just the boy who gets picked last in class. Still, he prays and prays that the Father doesn't notice.

Helge's own clothing stays firmly intact, even his sweater.

Helge wishes their friendship extended beyond the cellar but even when he offers the Father supper or somewhere to rest or to help at the church where the Father is staying he's declined.

Helge's been lonely all his life, so even having the Father spend a short amount of time with him is enough. He has to warn himself not to get greedy.

His dreams, he can't control.

His face burns when he thinks about them. How most of the time they seem to involve being pressed to the floor against the Father's firm chest and just held there.

Sometimes though, there's more. Their bodies rocking together or the Father's intense gaze that's too much so Helge has to look away.

Helge doesn't really want to call him Father, he wants to call him Noah. He remembers the kindness he showed him as a child though and feels ashamed of himself.

 

 

 

Up until after the first boy Helge doesn't know there are boys that are going to die.

 _He_ didn't die after all.

He cries, in the corner, and he doesn't remember all of what is said.

He does remember the Father leading him up with a firm hand on the back of his neck. Warm hands that engulf his shoulders.

The Father explains that it can be undone, as soon as they get it right. He explains the cost of deviating from the journal. Then he leads Helge upstairs and puts him to bed.

 

 

 

Helge doesn't think about it. Not for a long time.

He wants to believe him, and furthermore he does believe him. Still, it's the hardest thing Helge has ever done. The most devastating thing in his life and that's saying a lot.

He eats Raider bar after Raider bar.

And all he wants is to feel good for just one second.

He looks at Father Noah, imagines being pressed into the bed by him, and is ashamed of himself.

 

 

 

After the screwdriver incident things become charged between them.

Helge wonders if that's why he didn't see himself in the room. Just maybe Noah is the devil and he's going to dispose of Helge now that he's challenged him. Maybe Noah was evil all along. Maybe Noah likes to kill boys.

Maybe there is no event that Noah is going to save the world from. Maybe he's a demon who slips through time and the room is an elaborate ruse.

One thing is certain to Helge, and it's that he belongs in hell. For blindly following Noah, for standing by while those boys...

In the beginning, Helge would have welcomed any closeness from Noah. Now, though, he can't stop the shudder he gets whenever Noah gets close to him. Increasingly.

He's always hovering near. Sometimes Helge can even feel his breath fanning the back of his neck or the side of his cheek.

He wants to ask him what he's doing but Helge's never been able to successfully confront anyone in his life.

 

 

 

He tries to kill himself - deserves it, wishes he succeeded and wonders if he should try again - and misses the boy that he was.

Noah visits him at the hospital. Helge feels cheapened by the MO. Maybe he'd thought he was special. But he's no doubt just one of many.

"It's complete." Noah says.

Helge only turns his face away.

"I can go anywhere now." Noah continues. "You were right. The boys won't be coming back."

That causes Helge to spin around. To hear Noah proclaim it so brazenly. Noah waits until their eyes lock before he continues. He doesn't even look sorry.

"I will save the world of course. Because what would I rule if I didn't?"

A lump sticks in Helge's throat and makes him unable to answer. Fear rises in him as Noah approaches.

The Father runs a finger down the new scar on Helge's head.

"You've done well." Noah says and Helge wishes he could die, "There's no reason I should see you again."

Noah's fingers tap their way lightly down to Helge's hand.

 

 

 

Helge hates himself. It's different from the self loathing and worthlessness he's always felt. It's like a volcano erupting inside of him. The only way to quiet it is to hurt himself, so he does.

He hates himself so much he wants to hurt in the worst way possible. Thinks about his past and how he deserved _everything_ and of course that's when Noah shows up.

The gates are closed to travelers, but Noah has a machine now. In theory it's entirely possible that Noah could show up, in practice it seems like an impossibility.

Because what more could Noah possibly need from him?

Noah shows up when Helge is sitting on the floor in his cabin, arm soaked in blood - and it's not serious although Helge thinks it should be, if there were any justice in the world. Noah breezes in because Helge has left the door unlocked. He's shedded his priest costume. The clothing he wears is dark, expensive, and out of time.

Noah tsks at him and hauls him up, grip bruising.

Helge wants to hurt, wants to be hated, and maybe that's why he's able to speak. He's challenging Noah and it'll only lead to his destruction.

"What do you want?" Helge bites out. It comes out weak.

"I don't know." Noah answers, calmly, as he runs tap water over Helge's arm. Holding it still from where he's positioned himself just behind him.

It's frustrating and Helge can feel a maelstrom rising within him. He pulls his arm away roughly.

"You're angry I used you." Noah observes.

Helge hates that he's grateful Noah doesn't bring up the boys. His mind can't touch them without -

Helge focuses on the accusation.

"You're the devil." Helge spits back. It comes out weak and Helge is so sick of being weak. Wishes Noah could feel the anger he feels.

Noah leans in then, really close, but unlike before he presses against Helge. Fits himself snugly against Helge's back so there isn't an inch between them.

Helge can feel him inhale, feel him bury his face in Helge's hair.

Helge shakes in anger. He's never been so angry in his life. Not with Bernd, not with his mother or bullies or anyone else.

Subtly, Noah shifts their hips together.

Helge turns and pushes him back with both hands. Noah's too solid that it's only an inch or so. He pushes him again and again and again.

"That's what you want." Helge spits.

Blood from his arm is flowing over them both. Noah deserves to be marked with it.

"That's what you want." Helge repeats, pulling roughly at Noah's jacket.

Noah must get the picture then, before Helge does, because he sits heavily on the couch. Undoes his trousers.

Helge can't even think straight he's so angry. And he deserves this - to be reviled and humiliated and used. To hurt.

He crosses his arms and yanks his sweater above his head. Shatters a lamp when he flings it. His fingers shake so hard he can't get his trousers undone until Noah's hands snake forward, so calm, and pull them off of him.

Helge hates hates _hates_ himself.

There's blood everywhere, and Noah's not even unclothed except for - when Helge clambers on top of him and grabs, lines them up and pushes himself down. Noah only watches, he almost seems faintly amused. Handsome, unreal almost, and Helge knows how ugly he is in comparison.

It hurts, it burns, and Helge feels something tear.

He doesn't care. He's rough with himself, doesn't take a second to breath before pumping himself up and down. Wants it to hurt.

About the time the blood starts showing beneath him is when Noah grabs his hips. Slows them down and tilts them. Noah hits that part of himself that Helge _hates_ and that more than anything else causes Helge distress.

And once the anger has been replaced by distress Helge can't seem to hold it together anymore. He lets out a heaving, unexpected, dry sob before his eyes start to wet. He tries to move off of Noah then but Noah forces him back down, lets out a groan as he comes. Helge wishes he could say he didn't respond to it - that it didn't cause him to splay his legs and sink down deeper in order to _please_.

It's futile. They both know.

It's wet and vulgar and dirty. Helge's legs almost collapse underneath him when he gets off. He can feel juices slipping down his leg. He's gratified to see that there's blood, at least.

He doesn't deserve to feel sad. Doesn't deserve to cry. Helge knows that but it doesn't stop his tears.

The Father tucks himself in and rises. Helge moves away from him but that doesn't halt his progression so Helge turns away and buries his face in his hands.

"Shhh" Noah soothes, running his hands down Helge's back. Tugging him towards the bed.

Helge cries and cries.

Noah soothes him onto his back, opens him up with deft fingers and ointment until it doesn't hurt anymore. Then he cleans him up with a wet wash cloth. He dresses him in pajamas.

"Don't do anything rash." Noah says, as he bandages Helge's arm. "You have a son, you know."

Helge doesn't know, and he doesn't believe it. Doesn't deserve it either. Instead he lies blankly on the bed until Noah kisses him and he kisses back. Doesn't mean to but he doesn't seem to be in control of himself. He arches off the bed to keep their lips locked when Noah pulls away. Pants heavily when Noah licks back in.

"I shouldn't be here." Noah says again, seriously, between breaths.

He gets on the bed and fastens himself to Helge's back, arm around him.

They stay like that for a long time, until Helge's tears have dried and he's fighting sleep.

Noah loosens the watch on his wrist and lays it on the side table. Gets up almost reluctantly - an emotion Helge's never seen from him before.

"I'll be back this Tuesday." he says on his way out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Tuesday

 

 

 

Time is a matter of perception.

Time is less concrete and more fluid.

Time is a mire of quick sand eating you whole.

Tuesday, in Noah's opinion, doesn't come fast enough.

For Helge, it comes too fast.

 

 

 

Helge surely hasn't recovered.

Mainly because there isn't a way to recover from this. From dead children and horror and future devastation. From dark priests with darker convictions.

Helge has been complicit. And there's nothing that will ever change that, however much he wants to.

Still, he scrubs himself raw in the shower. Tears at the bandage that Noah fastened. Convinces himself when Noah pressed in for a kiss that he never pressed back. He scratches at his healing scabs and open wounds, doesn't allow them to heal.

Noah's watch he means to smash. Something, though, holds him back from it. But he can't look at it. In an unthinking fit he stuffs it under his mattress.

Helge has a sickness. One that he's always kept on the inside of himself, but now it's spilling out. Sick shame that Helge feels down to his bones. The difference he supposes, between then and now, is that there's no one external to hurt Helge. No one to hold him down or leave bruises or boot prints.

No, Helge has to do that himself now. Has to find a way to punish himself. Even though it will never be enough.

He thinks about Noah's promise to return.

He convinces himself Noah won't really return. There isn't any reason why he should. Helge is barely a reason at all. No, should Noah desire companionship it's obvious there are more desirable alternatives.

It doesn't bother Helge. Between being unwanted and wanted Helge would rather be the first. Noah - as Helge has always known, is important. Maybe not in the way he thought, not in the way Helge would like, but still the fact remains irrefutable.

And Helge - is nothing.

Noah returning is simply an aberration that Helge is certain will not be repeated.

 

 

 

Next Tuesday, doesn't come next Tuesday - not for Helge.

It's been three days only.

Helge comes home from work, so tired he feels like he can barely hold up his own weight, and waiting for him inside is Noah.

He's tastefully dressed in navy so dark it may as well be black.

Helge's entire body tingles and he pulls back, hands self consciously fisting in front of him. Noah looks calm, confident, with a barely there curl of his lips.

"Helge." He starts.

Helge wants to turn, wants to run and hide. He knows from experience though that the strategy never works. He stays frozen in place.

"You said next Tuesday." Helge says in a rush, quiet.

As if by providence of it not being Tuesday he will be spared.

"It's Tuesday for me." Noah returns, like his is the only timeline that matters.

Maybe it is.

And - however much Helge deserves all bad things, he knows he won't be able to bring himself to replicate what happened last time.

It's too painful to comprehend such that Helge feels his whole body start to lock up.

It's a familiar feeling.

Helge has to consciously remind himself that that isn't what Noah is here for. That Helge himself had instigated their last interaction.

He thinks his hands tremble.

When he drops his car keys Noah reaches for them. Stoops forward to sweep them up before he stands.

He's taller than Helge. Every bit of him more impressive.

He grasps Helge's wrist and pulls it forward, splays Helge's hand with gentle insistence before depositing the keys in Helge's palm.

"Why are you here?" Helge asks unsurely.

The discomfort is no doubt showing through his voice. He also can't seem to look Noah in the eyes. Because when he does he thinks of when they -

Helge doesn't like to think of those things.

"Shy?" Noah asks.

Only it really isn't a question, it's a statement.

Helge shakes his head in the negative but still can't meet his eyes.

Noah pulls Helge to him then, slowly. One hand on Helge's forearm and one on his shoulder.

It's a loose embrace.

The one Helge always falls for.

He trembles though and then says, very quietly, "You only want to hurt me."

"Oh" Noah starts, the sound more exhale than word, "I don't want to hurt you Helge. It's just unavoidable."

And very slowly, his hands fall to Helge's hips.

Helge starts making distressed noises high in his throat, one after the other.

He can't really stop himself from doing it.

Noah shushes him softly. Undoes Helge's belt.

"Um," Helge says and grabs at Noah's hands or tries to until he realizes he doesn't have the nerve, "P-please Father."

Noah takes a step back at that and regards him darkly.

Helge stammers and blushes and hides his face, eventually.

"I-I can't." is what he says.

"Didn't it feel so good to have me inside you?" Noah asks plainly.

" _stop_." Helge whimpers.

He can't face the man.

"I liked that you gave yourself over to me." Noah continues.

And Noah has never - _liked_ \- anything to Helge's knowledge.

It briefly makes Helge's head spin, makes a warmth that has no business being there spread in his chest.

He doesn't deserve the small amount of reinforcement. It's poisonous. Like Bernd and the way he'd ruffle Helge's hair and how he'd promised that he loved him the most, forever.

It feels different though. Unlike anything else Helge has in his life.

He never asked for this.

"I came far to see you." Noah continues, casting his gaze around to take in the meager cabin.

It embarrasses Helge. Always he has been too _something_. Too rich, too poor. It's marginally better though, with Noah's gaze off him.

Noah draws further into the cabin then, paces around.

Helge knows better though, the danger hasn't passed. He keeps his gaze locked on the floor.

"How are you feeling?" Noah asks, in a way that hints he knows Helge won't answer, "Any soreness?"

Helge shakes his head miserably, although it's a lie. He's tense, and his face feels hot.

Noah eventually sighs.

Helge isn't expecting him to let it rest, but he does.

He walks into the kitchen and disdainfully takes in the scant amount of food in the vicinity. Then, he begins cooking. Helge stands shock still in wonderment for a good five minutes.

After that, he doesn't know what to do with himself.

With Noah's attention off of him he hovers awkwardly, watching Noah carefully slice a carrot.

"I have much business." Noah speaks without looking at him. "I would very much like if you let me take you to bed. I have enough troubles and we both know the difference between you and I. We both know what you feel for me, that you lust."

Helge can't bring himself to deny it. The words are mortifying and they paralyze him.

He'd be a fool to think Noah hadn't noticed.

The words make him feel very small, like he isn't worth anything. He knows he isn't. A knot forms in his throat and he tries very hard not to cry.

It's untenable.

"You don't have to decide now, but I would like you to think about it. There isn't anyone else for you and you know that."

There isn't anyone else who would want him.

Helge is painfully aware of that fact.

But he - can't.

He can't.

 

 

 

The meal is simple. They eat in silence.

The light outside is dwindling and casts an orange glow. It's romantic, almost. The perverseness is not lost on Helge.

No one could love him. Not after what he's done.

It's odd, to see Father Noah eating although Helge's not watching really. His eyes stick self consciously to his own plate. He can't taste anything, his mind is too jumbled and panicked.

Afterwards Noah clears the plates and sets everything to rights.

Helge sits dumbly until Noah taps him firmly to get up.

Helge stumbles to bed with Noah's help.

He doesn't know what he expects but it isn't what happens. Noah tucks him into bed and runs a hand lightly through his hair.

"Next Tuesday." He says.

Helge doesn't try to keep his eyes open.

Instead he soaks in the comfort - knows he isn't deserving of it, but takes it anyway.

It's not a good omen.

He starts crying, tears escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheeks, when he realizes he's going to give in.

"Just promise you'll hurt me." He mumbles, voice thick with tears, "Please just promise you'll hurt me."

The burden of it - of punishing himself - is too much. There's always been someone to do it for him. To make him suffer like he deserves.

The Father doesn't say anything, but his breath seems heavier and he strokes Helge's hair a little more firmly.

 

 

 

Helge doesn't remember him leaving but he's alone come the morning.

He's been crying in his sleep, eyes puffy and irritated.

He gets up and goes to work because it's all he can do.

Even just the thought of Noah sends a sick shiver through him, causes him to heat.

Because he knows now, what is going to happen.

He sees Tronte at work, with Claudia. The picture wipes all thought of that away.

He instead makes himself focus on the boys whose lives he took and futures he stole - and only that.

He deserves to feel it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
